In a music landscape flooded with recycled lyrics and guitar loops, Te’Jani is doing something far riskier: he’s telling the truth. Not just in his lyrics, but in the very way he makes music, messy, genre-defiant, and emotionally sharp-edged. His latest single, “Medicine,” isn’t just a track; it’s a window into the parts of ourselves we usually hide.
Te’Jani doesn’t operate within the neat lines of genre. His sound blends punk grit, pop sensibility, and alt-rock atmosphere, but trying to pin him down is beside the point. “Medicine” opens like a confession and spirals into a meltdown, carrying the weight of unspoken trauma and those desperate, clumsy attempts to feel something real. It’s heartbreak on fire, beautiful, irrational, and loud.
There’s something incredibly cinematic about this track. You can almost see the flickering hallway lights, the half-empty red solo cup, the glance across a room that suddenly feels like a memory forming in real time. It feels like the soundtrack to a mistake you already regret, but one you’d make again just to feel alive for five minutes.
And that’s the core of Te’Jani’s gift; he gets it. He understands the way heartbreak and mental health tangle up in relationships. He doesn’t polish the chaos, he invites you to sit with it. The line between heartbreak and identity blurs in “Medicine,” just as it does in past tracks like “I HATE NEW YORK” and “Let Me Bum A Cigarette,” where nihilism meets vulnerability in the most relatable way.
But here’s the twist: this isn’t music for wallowing. Te’Jani’s songs are cathartic. They hit you in the chest and dare you to admit you’ve felt the same. “Medicine” is brutal, sure, but it’s also kind. It’s the kind of song that reminds you you’re not the only one spiralling and that maybe, just maybe, spiralling isn’t the worst thing if it gets you to the truth.
Te’Jani isn’t trying to be the next big thing. He’s just being honest. And ironically, that’s exactly why he just might be.
